He matches me, he matches me not…


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Oh my, I never would have thought I would blog about my Match.com days in the city 10 years ago, when online dating was so cool, but really NOT.  No one would EVER admit they were writing profiles online because it sounded so desperate.

HAH!

Everyone was doing it! But why? Why in a city of 8 million just in Manhattan alone, would a beautiful woman like me need to go online to date?

Well, if you can believe it, I was bored and so were my friends. Every night we would go out in the city and do the same lame thing, drink, talk to a guy in suit and then if we were REALLY lucky we’d get our bill paid with the hopes that we would not have to sleep with the suit, especially if he was the “Happy Hour Suit.”  Those guys were never that cute, pretty overweight and had the worst scotch breath (not to mention they never flossed). Ew!!!

Who knows how long they had been sitting on those stools in the generic pop up irish pubs with the foul smells of beer soaked in the wood from years passed evaporating into their clothes. “The Suits” just sat there waiting for incoming mid 20 year old’s to walk through the door. But in their defense, these suits were walking ATM’s. So it’s safe to say, I have had plenty of fish and chips in my day!

One night my friends and I went out (every night was girls night out) and we were sitting around a table at a swanky restaurant that we read about in “Time Out” magazine. The big joke around the city was who could find out about the hot spots before the masses did (masses meaning the “Bridge and Tunnel crowd.” Sorry if you are reading this and you are from New Jersey, no offense, really.

The life cycle of “cool, swanky, private, exclusive” went quickly in the city.  It seemed if over 100 people knew of a hot spot, it was urban mutiny and we were on to the next dark dingy lounge to be noticed.  How vain we were back then!

Like I was saying, girls night out turned into the contest of all contests.  We all had a couple of poor girls chardonnay, the house wine which was ONLY $15 dollars a glass and discussed who could get the most dates in one day on Match.com.

There were three of us up for the challenge, the other three pushed their noses up in the stinky smoke that had drifted from the other tables and said, ” No way, they would never go public to admit how desperate they were! ”

Well as Darwin said oh so long ago, “It’s survival of the fittest baby!” And I was not going to fail.

We had 48 hours to secure 5 dates in one day.

We all went to work the next day at our lovely jobs that only paid us 40k a year.

That was another reason we wanted to take on the challenge. We were BROKE and the only way to survive, meaning feed on something besides a pretzel from a street cart like a bitchy woman with low blood sugar was to have a boyfriend.  We gals worked or starved during the day, then they (the walking ATM’s) took us out for dinner. It was that simple. No one cooked in NYC. I think I cooked a meal three times in over 2 years and it came out of a box.

Anyway, I was hungry, boy friendless and needed nourishment.  I was starting to fit into all the children sizes at the GAP.  Did I just say Gap, I meant Armani. Sorry.

The next day, sitting in my uncomfortable chair at work, I wrote my very witty, charming profile and posted it immediately.

I went home that evening from work feeling a little weird and exposed.

I mean what if I’m at Barnes and Nobles and the weird perverted man staring at me in line recognizes me from my profile handle, “Long walks on the beach?”

What if my boss was on Match? What if all the dorks on the trading floor at the bank I worked with were on Match? Is that why they were laughing when I got on the elevator?? I was totally paranoid. I started to keep my head down, every where I went. I was acting like everyone on the street was the Paparazzi!  I wore hats and sunglasses so I would go unnoticed.

24 hours had passed since the posting. I went back to work to check my email. In those days, I did not have a lap top.  Everything I did on a computer came from a big apple box the size of my parents TV.

I closed my eyes and logged on. My finger tip was white as I pushed the last button to sign on as hard as I could not wanting to let go, I held it for what felt like 30 minutes!

I released to find 300 messages!!! BINGO BABY! Oh yeah, I am was gonna win this contest and gain at least 5 pounds!!

Date 1:

Breakfast at 10am – Jan 2, 2001

Match #1  Bald, Boring and Bad Breath

Date 2:

Brunch at 12:00pm – Jan 2, 2001

Match #2  Fake, Funny and full of flatulence

Date 3:

Lunch at 2:00pm – Jan 2, 2001

Match #3

Mature, Manly and a maniac

Date 4:

Happy Hour at 5:00pm – Jan 2, 2001

Match #4

Strange, Stinky and stinky

6:30pm – Barf in the restaurant bathroom at Pastis

Date 5:

Dinner at 8pm – Jan 2, 2001

Match #5

Hot, Handsome and a Hard Body!

I won the bet, my friends came to meet me at my last date and sat at table across from us trying to be unnoticed to see what Match #5 was all about.

Needless to say I did not need to eat for a week after the contest. I have never been on Match since, but if things start to go south again for me and the hunger pains kick in, I will try Eharmony.com!

Ms. will date for food – 2001

Miss NYanonymous, 2011 | Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Miss NYanonymous with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

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